All Hearts Are Broken
by JohnLockFeels14
Summary: It's been two years two years since the Reichenbach Fall and John is still mourning Sherlock's death and constantly misses him, but is he willing to do what it takes to see Sherlock again? Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or any of the characters. Updated version on wattpad: /user/221Bloggered


June 15th 2014

It has been three years today, three bloody years since Sherlock jumped and told John that he was a fake, that it was all just a magic trick. John believed none of it, nobody could convince him otherwise. He believed in Sherlock, and always would. John sighed, and threw the calendar across the flat. Dark circles hung around his tired eyes.

He stared at the yellow smiling face on the wall, remembering his adventures with Sherlock. Blinking away tears, he looked away. After three years he still couldn't bear the thought of Sherlock being dead. He had only just met him, they had become so close and so quickly. But in the end it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Sherlock was gone.

John stared at his gun on the bedside table, picking it up. The solid metal felt cold and heavy in his hands.

_"I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. _

_It's a trick. Its just a magic trick."_

He cocked the gun.

_"Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do this for me?"_

He turned it slowly and raised it to his head, could he really do this? Is this what it would take to see Sherlock again?

_"This phone call, it's... it's my note. That's what people do, don't they? Leave a note."_

His hands were now shaking uncontrollably. He put his finger on the trigger. Nobody was here to stop him, he could kill himself here and now without anyone interrupting. He could see Sherlock again. All it took was a pull of the trigger.

His hands were shaking violently. All he had to do was fire the gun, like he'd done countless times before. So, why couldn't he fire the damn gun now? He tried to force himself to pull the trigger, but his hands wouldn't obey. He choked down a sob and cursed. His eyes began to burn as tears threatened to break through. He dropped the gun, the hard metal hitting the wooden floor with a thud, as tears streamed down his cheeks. His whole body was shaking now, and he had no idea how to make it stop.

Salty teardrops fell to the floor, John felt that he had cried enough in the past three years to make an ocean. Quite frankly, he was sick of it. He was sick of how Sherlock was capable of making him cry, and feel weak and exhausted. John made his hands into fists. He could not live with the pain and heartache Sherlock had caused him. He shook his head and threw his fist into the wall, John continued throwing his fist against the plaster until his knuckles began to bleed.

John growled, unable to contain his frustration, how could he be so cowardly? What would it take for him to be able to see Sherlock again? That selfish bastard. He went and jumped off the roof before John could stop him. Before he could tell him...that he loved him. John understood now he had fallen in love with Sherlock Holmes.

He had fallen in love with the way Sherlock had gotten excited about a case, how sometimes only a bloody murder could bring him out of a slump. He had loved the way he played the violin when he was thinking, the beautiful notes echoing through the flat. Damn, he even grew accustomed to finding body parts in the icebox.

He had finally realized what these feeling had been, he loved sherlock. But he was never able to tell him, the shock and horror of seeing Sherlock standing on the roof of the hospital had made him unable to think straight. It all happened too quickly. And before John could do anything to stop him, Sherlock jumped.

_"Goodbye John." _

He had realized his feelings too late. Had he known the night before would be the last time he would have the chance to tell Sherlock…Damn it. Why Sherlock? Questions swarmed in John's head, questions that he'd probably never have the answers to. What had John done to deserve this, why would Sherlock leave him alone like this? Had he imagined the way Sherlock reacted to him being strapped to a bomb that night at the pool? His reaction to the American threatening to shot John if Sherlock refused to open the safe in Irene's flat. The way he would stare at him when he had thought John wasn't looking. Had John imagined everything?

John remembered that last night before everything fell apart. he had seen the look in Sherlock's eyes…they were screaming for help. Sherlock was drowning and although he was truing to hide it from John, he saw it in his eyes. Pain? Uncertainty? No something else…? It scared John. Usually Sherlock hid everything from John so well, so he was worried when he had seen Sherlock so vulnerable. He wasn't sure. but if he didn't know any better he would say it had been fear.


End file.
